


239 Snarry Kinks (Or a Story of Timelessness Presented in Alphabetically Ordered Ficlets of Around 500 Words Each)

by Xuxunette



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All kinks, Ficlet Collection, Humor, M/M, PWP without Porn, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Room of Requirement Shenanigans, Severus Snape Lives, Virgin Harry Potter, technically canon compliant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-19
Updated: 2021-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-28 02:15:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 6,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30132480
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xuxunette/pseuds/Xuxunette
Summary: Harry and Severus are trapped in the Room of Requirement, outside of Time and Space.Bored, they decide to spend eternity going through the full list of 239 kinks and fetishes, in alphabetical order.Will all the kinky sex lead to true love?
Relationships: Harry Potter/Severus Snape
Comments: 18
Kudos: 49





	1. Vanilla (or is that chocolate?) - a.k.a. The Overlong Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The list of kinks I'm basing this on comes from Bad Girls Bible's Complete List of 239 Sexual Fetishes and Kinks.  
> It can be found here: https://badgirlsbible.com/list-of-kinks-and-fetishes
> 
> I have no idea when I will finish this and don't know if the list is as complete as it claims. It seemed to be a good place to start.
> 
> Not beta-read.

**0\. Vanilla (or is that chocolate?) - a.k.a. The Overlong Prologue**

“Congratulations, Mr Potter. You have accomplished the prodigious magical feat of indefinitely sealing the Room of Requirement whilst imprisoning my person within it. I suppose that’s your idea of paying me thanks for salvaging your scrawny neck again and again, over all those years.”

“I’m trapped in here too, in case you hadn’t noticed. And it saved your life so, yeah, show some gratitude, won’t you?”

“My life was not yours to save, Potter.”

“... That sentence made no sense. None. Anyway, I couldn’t bloody well let you die in the Infirmary wing if I could do something. It was a miracle we found you alive when we got back to the Shrieking Shack. That healer from St Mungo’s told us Fawkes’ tears patched you up physically and that you could recover from the blood loss, but that Nagini’s venom was still spreading and that it would kill you before you could be restored. He stated _time had to stop_ for the healing magic to get a chance. I needed a place — ”

“You needed a place outside of Time and — as a logical consequence — outside of Space. And the Room of Requirement obliged. Were I not contemplating the prospect of spending timeless perpetuity in present company, the castle’s ability to enable such powerful magic would awe me.”

“I don’t understand why we can’t just wish ourselves back to Hogwarts. I wished us here, so it should work the other way!”

“Mr Potter, you have, for all relevant purposes, severed us from the fabric of reality itself. Space being an inseparable function of Time — not that you can grasp such advanced concepts — when you asked to be removed from the latter, you have also separated us from the former. Suspended us in an undefined and unqualified void. I expect the Room is simply no longer able to locate Hogwarts and reattach itself to it.”

“I thought it was because we’re inside the Room, so it can’t change back. But whatever. I’m trying apparating out again.”

“You’re welcome to another splinching.”

***

“Ouch! Holy bleeding Merlin’s balls! You don’t have to make it hurt so much, you fucking bastard!”

“Language, Potter. And next time, be my guest and reattach your misplaced limbs by yourself.”

“Fuking bloody fucker, you're not my fucking teacher anymore. _Gahhhhhhhh_ — oh. Better. Phew. Well, at least the Room’s got plenty of healing options. It has sprung up a whole fucking pharmacy.”

“Crassness in a transparent attempt to shock, how juvenile.”

"Yeah well, fuck you too, Snape. And you have no idea how good it feels to say that to your face."

"..."

"..."

"..."

“... I’m still glad you’re alive, Snape. Professor. Sir.”

“For a given definition of alive. To me, our present circumstance is a good approximation of Hell.”

“More like limbo, right? Though I never know the exact definition of that word. Just sounds appropriate. But we’re still going to starve to death. The Room doesn’t do food. I’m so hungry right now I’d give up my Invisibility Cloak for a bowl of Hermione’s mushrooms and toadstools soup. So fucking hungry, I’d eat a mountain of Hagrid’s rock cakes and drink a gallon of Dudley’s Slim Fast shakes. You have permission to cannibalize my body, Sir. Once I died from lack of food, that is. Or at least, wait until after I’ve passed out. Which should be anytime now, because I’m so hungry, I could — Fuck me! How did you do that!”

“I required it from the Room, of course. While I was Headmaster, I redrew the castle’s floor plans to include a small part of the Hogwarts’ pantry within the Room’s boundaries. When the Longbottom Resistance went underground. Naturally, the nitwit never thought of summoning food directly from the kitchens’ supply. Now quit whinging, Potter, starvation shall not deliver us from this misery. And stop hogging the brioche.”

“Bril—gulp—liant! Pass those bang — wait! _Wait_! If the Room connects to the pantry, doesn’t it mean we could escape through the kitchens? Or summon a house-elf? Kreacher! Kreacher! Do you hear me? Kreacher, I need you!”

“Cease howling, you idiot. Although it may soon prove a blessing, I am not yet deaf. I attached a limited part of the pantry _to_ the Room, not the reverse. One square foot of the Hogwarts’ kitchen at the very back of the cellar. It’d be miraculous indeed if anyone, even a house-elf, stood within that exact perimeter so as to be summonable.”

“... That’s the reason you’re not panicking, is it? Because you know we can get out?”

“I do not panic, Potter, period. And there is only the remotest chance.”

“And that’s why you’ve been keeping to yourself. You are summoning house-elves wordlessly.”

“I assure you I need no excuse to _not_ talk to you, Mr Potter. But, yes. And I’ve been applying myself to the invention of a spell that would signal our situation as well. Now, if only I could think in silence.”

“... Then, why the hell didn't you tell me instead of letting me splinch myself all over the ceiling?!”

Snape sneered and made a glass of wine appear in his hand.

***

“Have you renewed the Blaring SOS charm?”

“The _Succuro Gratia_ spell. Of course.”

"Yeah, that. Whatever. It's gonna work, is it? Someone will hear it. Hear us."

“...”

"And they're going to come to our help. They will. They'll try everything to get us out. I'm the bloody Boy-Who-Lived."

"..."

"Even if it's impossible, they'll find a way to do it. Hermione is the smartest witch in existence and she's my friend. If someone can figure it out, it's her."

"..."

***

“I wish I knew how long we’ve been in here. This… suspended _nothingness_ is bloody creepy.”

“The exact answer to your question would be: no time at all has passed since our confinement. But the answer you’re looking for is: about four or twenty weeks, I suspect. We can no longer rely on our circadian rhythms to keep track.”

“Twenty weeks. That's five months. Fucking fuck me, I’ve missed Ginny’s fucking birthday. And yes, I know time doesn’t affect us like normal in here, but let me pretend, alright? It keeps me sane.”

“You’ve missed fucking Ginevra Weasley on her birthday, you mean.”

“...Holy hell, Snape! Was that a joke? Are we on joking terms now?”

“I must admit your lack of outrage is surprising.”

“Yeah, well, that was gross, a sex joke like that. You being my former teacher and all. But what do you want, you’re my only friend here.”

“I’m no such thing.”

“The only ex-teacher and ex-arch-nemesis I can talk with, then. Or talk at. Whatever. This place is driving me crazy.”

“So you’ve said. For the fortieth time since this morn — since we woke up.”

“Horrible, right?”

“...”

“Speaking of sex, I’ve never had it, you know. Not the real thing. Been too bloody busy defeating Voldemort and watching Ron and Hermione get into each other’s pants from the sideline. I mean, we fumbled around a bit, Ginny and I. Second base and stuff. But nothing more. And now, when I finally get out of here, I bet she would have married someone else and I’d have missed my opportunity. If we ever get out, I mean. Things looking the way they do, I’ll go barmy or kill myself from the fucking boredom long before. And I wouldn't even have experienced what it feels like to have sex. I mean, actual sex. With another human being. Not just a quick wank in the showers, or a bit of smooching by the lake on a summer afterno —”

“Yes, Potter.”

“... What?”

“You were suggesting we have sex. Propositioning me. I accept.”

“... I wasn’t.… But, okay?”

  
  
  


***

“That was....”

“The word you’re looking for is ‘appalling’. Although ‘awfully painful’ would be another adequate term, I’m sure.”

“Yeah, wasn’t exactly comfortable. And it was all a bit gross too, really. But it’s been a long time for you so it’s understandable you’re not on top of your game. Ouch! Just stating the truth. You admitted to it yourself!”

“...”

“... So… round two?”

“Of course.”

“Great, I go on top this time. Don’t think I’ll be able to sit for a wee — for a long time after that.”

  
  


***

“How’s your arse?”

“How’s your prick?”

“Sore.”

“Same.”

“... So, we could try something different while we wait out the ache, you know?”

“Potter, whilst our sexual activities may be a temporary improvement upon our hateful lot within the confines of these cursed walls; I have no intention for our lips to ever touch.”

“Oh wow, we haven’t kissed yet, have we? My mistake.”

***

“That was…”

“Yes, it was.”

“I was going to say fucking brilliant.”

“Mhm.”

“So you like kissing. Good. Because I do too. And, as I was saying, we could try other things while we wait for our buttholes to stop smarting: I read that book once —”

“Magazines don’t qualify as books, Mr Potter. And I’m not interested in Quidditch.”

“Haha, I read stuff other than Quidditch Quarterly, you prat. Anyway, there was that book I sneaked from Hermione — she carried an extensive library everywhere we went when we were hunting Horcruxes — it was called ‘Sexual Fetishes - An Encyclopedic Overview’ by Nicolas Nailspound.”

“Miss Granger may be a scarlet woman after all.”

“Yeah, I know right. I think she took that book with her in case we ran into obscure sex magic. Or got captured and sexually tortured. Like, she didn’t want to be caught off-guard if Bellatrix started licking her toes in the middle of Crucio, or something. Anyway, the book’s pretty interesting and the Room gave me a copy when I asked — because it’s awfully helpful beside of LETTING US OUT OF HERE, YOU HEAR ME ROOM, LET US THE FUCK OUT, ROOM, DO YOU BLOODY WELL HEAR ME?”

“...”

“... Anyway, here. With illustrations and all. And since we’re cooped up and cosy, I thought we may try a thing or two from it…?”

“Am I correct, Mr Potter, in surmising from your ramble that you’d like for me to leap from despising the very air you breathe — a condition only partially solved by our shagging, I assure you — to accompanying you as an active participant on a journey into the darkest depths of sexual perversion?”

“Well, I figured you’d be the type to play along. You took the virginity of a former student twenty years your junior, after all. It’s a bit too late to have standards now. Also, I’m really bored, and you are too.”

“...I suppose I see your point. Yes, to your proposition.”


	2. Abasiophilia

**1\. Abasiophilia**

“Read it again?”

“‘ _Abasiophilia: attraction to people in neck braces, wheelchairs, casts, or other devices, and who have their mobility impaired.’_ ” 

“Ah yes, from the greek _abasios_ , meaning lameness. Lame, I say.”

“Snape, this is supposed to be sexy. It’s not a bloody lesson in dead languages. Besides, I dunno. You were kinda attractive with your neck wrapped in bandages and bedridden in the Infirmary. I mean, horrifyingly near death, but magnetic at the same time. You also couldn’t talk. That’s always a bonus.”

“You confuse your wish for my demise with this fetish. ”

“I don’t think so. I had to resist taking you into my arms and bawling my eyes out into your chest; let’s find out for sure!”

Severus rolled his eyes but flopped back onto the bed. He considered his wand for a second before flicking it. A plaster cast appeared on his left leg.

“Oh! Severus, baby! You’re hurt!”

Snape glared pointedly. The little wretch only grinned. 

Snape adjusted himself more comfortably in the bed before feigning a long-suffering expression.

“Woe is me, I won’t walk ever again. That blasted accident has robbed me of my mobility!” he exclaimed. 

“Severus, darling! My heart cannot bear to see you so weak!” Potter’s voice was tremulous. So exaggerated, Severus wanted to laugh. But, then, Potter looked him in the eyes, and Severus’ pulse skipped a beat at the intensity he found there.

“From now on, you can’t go anywhere without me, and you’ll need my help for everything,” Potter said whilst another cast enveloped Severus’ right arm with a wand-wave. “I can’t let you alone for a single minute, you are too feeble!”

Potter leaned in closer, trailing his hands over the orthopaedic casts.

Snape’s breath hitched when Potter brushed his hand against his hips.

“I’ll have to feed you, wash you, and clothe you, every day. I’ll even have to carry you to the bathroom and hold it for you while you piss.”

Severus’ crotch tightened, weirdly.

“And if I want to have my wicked ways with you, you won’t be able to escape me. Not disabled and limping on one leg. You’ll have to scream for help, but it may never come. Or come too late, only after I’m through with you.”

Severus muffled a whimper as Potter’s finger brushed his left nipple through his shirt.

“But you won’t scream, won’t you, Severus, darling?”

Severus knew vaguely that he shook his head. The emerald gaze hypnotized him, and the warm hand too. Hands.

“No, you won’t. Because you’re grateful that I’ve been taking such good care of you, aren’t you?”

Severus nodded and licked his lips.

“Tell you what, why don’t I help you to a bath right now?”

Severus let Potter lift him in his arms. He clumsily clutched at Potter’s neck and saw dilating pupils darken the green irises.

He did feel weak all of a sudden. In a deliciously helpless way.

If he whimpered sweetly, he may coax a backrub out of Potter.

Words count: 500


	3. Abduction as seduction

**2\. Abduction as seduction**

“ _'A kink where the kidnapper treats the victim in a loving manner.'_ ”

“That’s only a summary of our current position.”

“You mean I get to be the kidnapper? More importantly, you think I’m treating you lovingly?”

“I was referring to the Room, Potter. It’s supplying us with our every wish, whilst keeping us incarcerated.”

“I dunno, I still hate it. Can’t wait to burn it down once we’re out.”

“That would be a prosecutable felony, Potter.”

“You’re no longer Headmaster, Severus. I’ve stolen you away from Voldemort and your Death Eaters pals —”

“What a shame.”

“ — because I cannot stand a single day more of not breathing the very air you inhale. And now, I’m going to seduce you by showing you love like you have never known. Tell me, Severus, what is it that’d swoon you off your feet?”

“I don’t believe that last sentence was proper English, but the back-scrub wasn’t bad. I shan’t mind a foot-rub either.”

“Mhm. Partial to massages, aren’t we? And what if I rubbed your feet with my mouth?”

“That, I believe, is a different fetish —oh, god — entirely.”

“Slurp. Delicious. I think you’ll have to put in a little more resistance than that, Severus. If you want the fantasy to be believable.”

“Release me at once, Potter — butdon’tstopwhatyou’redoing — or I’ll make you pay, I swear!”

“Now, now, Severus, you know I can’t do that. But it’s all for your own good, I promise. In time, you’ll see how much you want it. Want to be my prisoner. Because I make you feel so good, loved, and safe, and content. Because no one has ever licked your toes like I’m doing right now. And no one has so slowly and thoroughly cajoled every inch of your skin like I’m about to do. Every single square millimetre of your gorgeous body, I’ll kiss. And bath every single pore with my tongue. Until you are writhing in my arm and weeping with how beautiful I make you feel. Yeah, don’t look at me like that. You are a magnificent and extraordinary man, Severus. Believe it. So smart, and witty, and brave. Oh yes, so brave. And cunning, and wickedly funny. And… and…”

“Desirable…?” Severus asked in a whisper.

“Oh, yes, Severus. So fucking desirable, all long limbs and wiry muscles. Pale skin that begs to be marked; narrow waist that wants for hands to hold; long dripping cock that requires my mouth to slave over. You’re more than desirable, Severus: you’re goddamn lovely, with your heart beating against my chest and your eyes fluttering in pleasure. Lovely, and loveable; for me to treat lovingly, my lover, love. Can you tell how loving I feel, when you shudder and sigh underneath? I must kidnap you, to steal you away from the world. Do you feel loved yet? Do you understand why I never can let you go? ”

“You know, having the Boy-Who-Lived simultaneously kiss my arse and lick my toes isn’t half bad.

Words count: 500


	4. Abrasion

**3\. Abrasion**

_Abrasion involves abrasive contact. This can be person-to-person as in a harsh rubbing of the skin known as a dutch rub or with various substances such as scratchy wool or thistles. “Birching” is where a person is struck or brushed with twigs and leaves. It can also be done using sand._

“Skip this one? It looks too advanced, and the dutch-rub thing is just weird. I don’t want to be reminded of my cousin Dudley in bed.”

“Now, Potter. Where is your sense of alphabetical symmetry?”

“Uh, I don’t have one?”

“I’ll take the sand. I can use a good exfoliation.”

“Getting comfy, eh? And you know about exfoliation? I mean, you’re hardly a metrosexual.”

“One, it’s your idea. Two, metro-what? Three, one reads that the Greeks regularly scrubbed their bodies with sand whilst covered in olive oil, at the gymnasium.”

“The Greeks, again? Are you sure you loved my mother?”

“Are you sure you love Ginevra Weasley?”

“Point taken. Budge over, olive oil and sand it is.”

Potter’s went cross-eyed in concentration. Seconds later, the Room of Requirement sprouted a marble massage table in a style fairly reminiscent of Ionian. If one ignored the dicks-themed bas-relief.

Snape, already naked — clothes now seemed pointless in Potter’s company —, reclined upon the marble surface. Cold and smooth.

Potter, who too was in the nudes, approached Severus holding a large jar of amber liquid. He trickled the olive oil over Severus’ front, from chest to toes. 

The smell had a faint acrid pungency to it. Severus dragged a finger across his pectorals and licked it. 

Good lord, perfect, premium cold-pressed that retained a caress of bitterness in the aftertaste. A slight rasp on the tongue that would be exquisite with a slice of oven-warm bread, sprinkled with chopped garlic. The Room wasn’t dealing them short. 

Severus wondered if Potter could appreciate the superior quality of the slick fluid he was so generously spreading around, but then Potter peppered sand over his thighs and he had to stop himself from squirming.

The fine shower of light grains made him ticklish. 

And Potter’s unerring gaze made his prick unfurl.

“We haven’t gotten to the abrasion yet, Severus.”

“Then, get a move on.”

Potter did. With both hands, he crushed the little mounts of white sand he had piled on Severus’ hipbones and dragged under his palms — with more pressure than expected — the handfuls of small particles in an upward motion.

The multitude of tiny, sharp-edged granules scratched Severus’ torso, their roll deliciously lubricated by the oil. 

Severus sighed.

Then Potter dragged his palms downward, with yet more pressure, and the long rub scraped Severus’ skin, leaving a burning trail in its wake. 

Severus thought about what it would feel like to have Potter’s sand-coated hand on his penis, jerking him off.

He grew harder.

Later, as Severus lay in a boneless, red-skinned heap that was covered in more than oil and sand, Potter said, “You know, Snape. I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, but it seems you’re always the one who ends up getting full-body massages. I’m starting to feel like a house-elf.”

Severus cracked an eye open with a heroic effort and ogled Potter’s purpling erection. 

He flipped onto his stomach.

“Just make sure it’s sand-free before you stick it in.”

Words count: 500


	5. Acarophilia

**4\. Acarophilia**

“‘ _ Sexual arousal from scratching’ _ . That’s hardly different from what we just did.”

“It’s from the —”

“Don’t tell me, it’s Greek.”

“ — Greek —”

“See.”

“— _ acari,  _ meaning mites, ticks, or other small parasites. Acarophiles would therefore derive pleasure from having their itches scratched. Or the scratching itself.”

“... I guess I see the nuance...” Harry said as he scratched his head absentmindedly.

“I’ll take this one as well,” Severus said as he mirrored Harry’s gesture.

“Why do I feel like I’ll be left with the horrible ones. Like ‘attraction for rotten toenails’?”

“It was your idea, Potter. And I think you've missed some of that sand about my person. It itches.”

“How convenient. Where?”

Severus flicked away long strands of greasy hair (it wasn’t so repulsive in proximity, only naturally oily) from his neck.

“Here,” Snape said while sticking out his throat.

“I’m surprised you didn’t point to your dick,” said Harry.

“I’m nearing forty, Potter. Even being seduced by an illegal nymphet can’t possibly goad more from me than the two erections I already managed in the last four hours.”

“Pretty sure I turned eighteen while you were passed out in the Infirmary, and you didn’t even give me a present. Plus, I didn’t seduce you, but whatever makes you comfortable.”

“Shut up insolent brat and start scratching.”

“Yes, Mr Dirty-Old-Man.”

“...”

“...”

“...”

“You’re not that ugly, you know.”

“Scintillating compliment.”

“For real, and the scar makes you look cool. Like a bat, but rugged and battle-worn.”

Snape frowned and tensed up, unexpectedly. 

Harry’s heart lurched, also unexpectedly. 

He had forgotten how uptight the older man could be, but he supposed it was only natural after the merciless bullying Snape had endured while young. 

Harry changed gear at rocket speed — he wanted to keep having sex or he’d go insane.

“Like Bill. You know, Ron’s big brother. Even after his werewolf encounter, he’s still handsome. Just like you.”

Snape narrowed his eyes at Harry but the muscles in his jaw unwound, and Harry scraped Snape behind his ear. Like a big cat.

“Mhm… That’s good.”

“Yeah, like that don’t you, my beautiful?”

“Overkill — YES! Right there!” Snape barked as Harry dragged his fingernails downwards, toward the edge of his jagged scar.

Harry obliged, watching Snape’s eyes close in pleasure.

There were worse lives than lazying in bed, scratching Snape’s neck, he thought. The man’s skin was baby smooth from the sand rub and moistened from the oil. It was also still fairly pink, and Harry’s fingernails left white tracks that stood in contrast against the tender flesh. 

Harry wasn’t sure Snape was an acarophile but he seemed to enjoy himself enough, with his lips parted and his breath coming in whimpers like that. He moved closer and dug his nails deeper into Snape’s flesh as he dragged them in free-form patterns that crisscrossed Snape’s torso.

Dared he graze those pebbled nipples?

He dared, and Snape moaned appreciatively, pushing up into Harry’s touch.

“Why, Mr Dirty-Old-Man, aren’t we still quite the stud."

Words count: 500


	6. Accidental stimulation

**5\. Accidental stimulation**

“Just say it, Potter. You’ll sprain your few remaining brain cells if you try to keep it in for longer.”

“Alright. QUIDDITCH! Phew.”

“Paint me amazed,” said Snape, utterly nonplussed.

“Come on, Snape. Don’t tell me you’ve never sprung a pocket-nimbus-pal; tried to fight down a riding-ramrod; secretly rubbed your double-twigs-n-berries; sported a hundred-miles-stiffy; got embarrassed by a sudden splinter-sconge; and stayed up in the air to wait out the good ol’ broom-woody.”

“Contrarily to you, Mr Potter, I can _actually_ fly.”

“Killjoy. Even if I learned how to ‘actually fly’,” Potter made air quotes with his fingers while pronouncing the last two words, “I’d still ride a good Firebolt. The kinship between a wizard and his broomstick is incomparable. Almost as good as the affinity between a wizard and his wand.” 

“Your loss. The sensation of rising freely through the atmosphere can… make one rise accidentally.”

Potter blinked, no doubt shocked by Severus’ small admission. The dolt recovered, however, and a Cheshire Cat grin spread across his kiss-bitten lips. (They engaged in the latter activity often now, whenever Potter or Severus were bored it seemed, which was close to all the time.) 

“Okay, Snape. Tell me more, you may convert me yet.”

“Well, penile tumescence being triggered by the parasympathetic division of the autonomic nervous system, causing the levels of nitric oxide to rise in the trabecular arteries and —”

“The _what_ of _what_? Sexy, Snape! Not a bloody lecture!”

“...”

“...”

“Ahem, as I was saying, the mind being the most receptive erogenous zone in the human anatomy, one may find oneself… titillated by the sense of absolute freedom bestowed upon one whilst one flies unaided by a broomstick. Indeed, when one finds oneself floating adrift the nebulous shroud of formless, vagrant clouds; hovering hundreds of miles above one’s earthly dimension, perched on literal thin air with no other prop than one’s own will; one may come to discover that the unparalleled sensation of weightlessness true flight grants feels like a liberation of the senses. An unshackling of physical boundaries that may endow one with a yearning for further abandon and rid one of the need to control as one is cradled by the illusion of limitlessness; making one open oneself more fully to the sensuous experience of the flesh, to the littlest variation in barometric pressure against the skin, to the slightest alteration in temperature or humidity, to the tiniest shift...of zephyr.” 

“... You get off on wind rushing up your robes, don’t you?”

“Finesse is thy name, Potter.”

“Didn’t say it wasn’t hot. You, flapping around like a bat but with a raging chubby down your pants. Do you reckon you could fuck me, or I fuck you, while you’re airborne?” 

“... It is my understanding that orgasm can be achieved whilst levitating.”

“Oh god, you’ve wanked mid-air.”

“Hypocrite.”

“You know, this one is really good. Reminds me to take you flying when we get out of here, will you? We’ll race.”

Severus looked at Potter and said nothing.

Words count: 500


	7. Acrotomophilia

**6\. Acrotomophilia**

“A desire for things sharply cut off.”

“It says ‘ _sexual interest for amputees_ ’ here. Well, I hope Angelina Johnson’s an acrotomophile and got a thing for amputated ears.”

“Is that subtle reminder of the minor injury I caused the surviving Weasley twin, Mr Potter? Oh, but pardon me, it can’t be. You are incapable of subtlety.”

“How do you feel about losing a leg, Snape? In the interest of alphabetical symmetry. Or an arm? I’m not picky.”

“That’s sadism, Potter. Again, confusion clouds your muddled brain.”

“Is that your way of flirting with me, Snape? Insulting my intelligence any chance you get? And all those years I thought it was a vendetta against my dead father.”

“I do not flirt, Mr Potter.”

“I have a whole new perspective on your attitude toward me during school now. You dirty paedophile, you.”

“I suppose it’s a testament to the level of insanity achieved within this Room that I did not take offence to what you’ve just said. And no, Mr Potter, calm your trepidations, I am not a paedophile. For your information, I have not once thought of you in a sexual context before This.”

“That’s thoughtful of you. To reassure me like that. Yeah, I know that’s what you're doing. Denying all guilty, perverted thoughts about me prior to us landing in here so I won’t get creeped out. Can’t say the same though.”

Snape lifted his head from where it had comfortably rested atop Harry’s stomach. He gave Harry an incredulous look.

“Fantasies about your old and greasy potions master, Potter? Really?”

“Wipe off the drool dripping down your chin, it wasn’t a sexual fantasy exactly. It was… Tell you what, forget it. I’d rather you didn’t know.”

“Who’s flirting, now? I told you about flying. Surely, as a Gryffindor, you hold yourself to the highest standards of fair play.”

“ … It was during my fourth year, the Triwizard Tournament year. Draco insulted Hermione — you know, the usual — just before potions. We attacked each other, and you stopped our fight.”

“Of course, I acted as fit a teacher.”

“And then, you took fifty points off Ron and me. Each.”

“Amply merited, I’m sure.”

“No, it wasn’t. You didn’t deck points from Malfoy. But anyway, that got my blood boiling, and for the whole double-period afterwards, I imagined having you flat on your back — ”

“You were fourteen. That’s precocious even —”

“ — flat on your back on the floor and writhing in pain as I cast the Cruciatus Curse on you.”

“...”

“Was still thinking about it when I wanked myself to sleep that night. Then, I forgot everything about it the next morning. The end.”

“... I take it you weren’t kidding about seeing me amputated.”

“Nah, that was just a joke.”

“So, are you telling me this charming tale of teenage deviance to cover your lack of inspiration for actual acrotomaphilia, then?” 

“There’re always jokes about ol’ Alastor.”

“No sexual joke can be made about Mad-Eye Moody, Potter.”

“... I agree.”

Words count:500

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Harry sat there staring at Snape as the lesson began, picturing horrific things happening to him. . . . If only he knew how to do the Cruciatus Curse . . . he’d have Snape flat on his back like that spider, jerking and twitching. . . . "
> 
> — GOF, chapter 18


	8. Actirasty

**7\. Actirasty**

“‘’ _Arousal by the rays of the sun._ ’ Weird. In a ‘never thought that could be a fetish way’.”

“Explains Florida, Akhenaten and nude beaches.”

“Nude beaches? You know about those? I do only because my uncle used to rant about them.”

“I may have remained cloistered at Hogwarts for the last two decades, but I had a life once.”

“I saw some of that in your memories and it didn’t seem like it’d feature people getting a tan in their birthday’s suit, somehow.”

“Death Eaters are a variegated sort.”

“... Did Voldemort sponsor holiday trips to naturist resorts?”

“Not as such. Yaxley found out about the practice and deemed it another evidence of Muggle deviance. He thought it a good idea to terrorize maroon-skinned quinquagenarians and chase around sun shrivelled grannies. The most embarrassing Morsmodre I ever cast.”

“... You know, sometimes I forget you were a Death Eater. Like, a real one. Though how I could is beyond me. I saw you kill Dumbledore.”

“... This is taking a rather unpleasant turn, Mr Potter. First reminding me of Fred Weasley’s ear, now speaking of Albus. What is it, boy? Realising exactly who you’ve been sleeping with all of a sudden? Having second thoughts about bedding a murderer? Well, you are welcome to banging your head against the wall again, you certainly seemed to have developed a fascination for that new sport.”

His rant finished, Snape flung himself out of bed, his face clouded by an angry scowl. He robed himself with a flick of wand and strode off, disappearing behind a foldable screen erected in a corner of the Room where Harry knew was a desk and a chair that closely resembled the furniture in Snape’s Hogwarts office.

Harry stared at the stone ceiling against which he had splinched himself about a thousand times. He let what could have been an hour or a full week pass before getting out of bed himself.

He fussed with his pyjama’s buttons as he stuck his head around the partition.

Snape was seated at his desk, pretending to write. He held a quill aloft a blank piece of parchment but his eyes were fixed straight ahead, onto nothingness. 

They both had done a lot of that vacant staring before they started having sex.

“That was very sly of you, Severus. Implying you were only fooling around with me to keep me from going loco and hurt myself.”

Snape blinked but didn’t look around. “If that’s your idea of an apology, it only reveals yet another abyss in your deplorable education.”

“Can’t help it. Was raised by a family of trouts. The worse Muggles you could imagine. May have joined the Death Eaters myself if I hadn’t lucked onto Ron and Hermione. The Sorting Hat offered me to join Slytherin, you know. Imagine how it would have turned out between us if you’d been my Head of House.”

“I'd have had you expelled in your first year,” said Snape, categorically.

“I bet you would have,” said Harry with a chuckle as he cautiously wrapped his arms around the chair’s high-back and Snape’s torso.

Snape didn’t push him off.

“What was that Ah-kay-thingy you were talking about earlier?” he asked softly into the white-streaked hair on top of Snape’s head.

“Akhenaten, or what would happen if an actirast was also a god-king ruler of an empire.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words count: 560
> 
> Failed the 500 words mark because I liked the conversation.


	9. Agalmatophilia

**7\. Agalmatophilia**

“A lot of these seem to be about objectification.”

“Be still my heart, a six-syllables word from Mr Potter.”

“Would you drop that already? I can sulk too, you know.”

“I did not —”

“Yeah, you did. But it was cute.”

“I’m not —”

“Yeah, you are. And you love it when I butter you up.”

“... Signalling one’s insincerity rather defeats the point of ‘buttering another up’.”

“Dunno. Don’t they say that ‘love doesn’t exist, only proofs of love do’?”

“...”

“Oh no, I have rendered Severus Snape speechless by uttering the four-letters taboo word in a non-fantasy setting. Relax, Snape. I’m a Gryffindor, remember? Can’t brush my teeth without making it about L. O. V. E..”

“A rare feat of introspective perspicuity, indeed.”

“Glad to see you’re less creeped out by no-strings-attached, casual kinky sex, than the prospect of a wholesome relationship.”

“Mr Potter, were we not entrapped —”

“I get it, Snape. I’ll take the sex. Ever fucked anybody who was under a full-body binding curse?”

“I may be a murderer, but I’m not a rapist.”

“Been tempted, though?”

“Mr Potter —”

“Just kidding. Must be hard, being an ex-Death Eater: everyone assuming the worse. Can see how that’d turn anyone bitter. Although you won’t shock me if you admitted to a bit more, you know.”

“Hell. I’m in it.”

“Oh, come on, I’m sure rape fantasy is somewhere down the alphabet. Better warm up to the idea progressively. It’s only play-acting, after all. So, ‘ _agalmatophilia: a sexual attraction towards statues, dolls, mannequins and other similar figurative objects; or a desire to be transformed into said objects_ ’. Do you trust me, Severus?”

“It’s ‘Severus’ now, isn’t it, Potter?”

“You can call me Harry, darling. How about I bugger you after I put you under the petrification jinx?”

“... I’d imagine penetration would be impossible.”

“Hmm, I see how it wouldn’t work. No give. But you’re not opposed to the general idea, eh? I hope you’re noticing how interested I am. Maybe I’ll invent a spell to turn you into a doll, then. One that keeps muscular elasticity. I’ll have you right against your desk. But first I’ll arrange your limbs to expose all your pretty bits. With your mouth at the edge of the table, and your arse high in the air. I think I’ll have your hands flat on the desk, and you won’t be able to move them while I stick it in at my leisure. First in your mouth, to make it wet, then up your sweet little hole. I’ll take you hard, thrust it all the way in on the first shove with no concern for your comfort — because you're a doll after all — and fuck away as I please until I’m tired of the position. Then, I’ll scoop you up and turn you around to lay you down on your back. Put your legs up and together, so you’re all tight, and jam it in again — ”

“No magic, I’ll stay still.”

“... Promise, promise. One you’d better keep. No squirming, and no whimpering or crying out while I have my wicked ways with you. In fact, no movement or noise of any sort.”

“Or?”

“Or I’ll take it out and leave.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words count: 540
> 
> The 500 limit is surprisingly hard.


	10. Age Play

**9\. Age Play**

“Redundant.”

“Not really. I’m not exactly a schoolboy anymore. But I can pretend. I’m sorry, Professor Snape, I’ve melted my cauldron again. Do I get detention?”

“Trite. ”

“Headmaster Snape, please don’t expel me. I’ll do anything!”

“Outrageous.”

“Daddy?”

“Lord no.”

“... Uncle Snape, then? I’m running dry here. Lend us a hand, if you don’t mind.”

“Do you know what I think, Mr Potter? I think I now understand why you have defeated the Dark Lord.”

“Couldn’t be the whole sacrificed my life thing, could it?”

“Many have offered their lives to the cause, but you have outplayed him.”

“... Was that a compliment? I admit you have me stumped, Snape. Haven’t got a clue where this is going.”

“And you have outplayed him because you are an exceptionally single-minded person.”

“Erm, pretty sure it was because Voldemort thought he could master the Elder Wand by attempting murder on the wrong fella.”

“No, if the Wand of Destiny was truly undefeatable, Albus couldn’t have vanquished Grindelwald. It was a mere prop, and you only fed into the Dark Lord’s obsession for it by convincing him that arcane laws about sticks made of wood could be of any import. But before that, you had already impressed him with choosing death, yet coming back alive, after having hunted down all remaining pieces of his shattered soul. In the end, you defeated him by making him doubt himself.”

“... I still don’t see what you’re getting at.”

“I’m simply stating, Mr Potter, that, for whatever reason, you are trying to convince me of an interest you do not feel by displaying as much single-minded and preposterous bravado as you’ve shown in your duel to the death facing the Dark Lord. And that I, contrarily to Him, appreciate the wherefore of His demise. ”

“... Okkkay. Tell you what I think, then, Snape. I think you’re just bloody insecure. Getting cold-feet now that you reckon you may expose vulnerabilities if someone finds out what you like. What you _really_ like. You came pretty hard against that desk of yours.”

“Anyone may enjoy a good buggery.”

“See. Which must also mean that this age play stuff is right up your alley.”

“Entertain the notion all you like.”

“As for my ‘insincere interest’, Snape, we’re two human beings stuck in — what did you call it? — timeless perpetuity. I’m in my sexual prime, and you, despite your protests, aren't that far off, with — pardon my pun — loads saved up. As far as my prick is concerned, you’re the sexiest thing in the universe right now —”

“Tautological superlative. I’m currently the only ‘thing’ in your universe.”

“ — And if anything, my steel-grade boners should convince you of how sincere I am in wanting to fuck your every hole. And let’s not forget that you’re the one who works up into footnoted lectures if I even suggest this may be something more than helping each other out in a tough spot. Hell, you won’t even admit that we may be friends —”

“Because we’re not.”

“So yeah, just chill and keep in mind that I’m a brainless Gryffindor, won’t you? Just a straight-shooting, nothing but my dick between both ears dummy, as you so constantly like to point out!”

“I do not underestimate you, Mr Potter. Not one bit.”

“For _fuck’s sake_ , Snape, it’s just sex! To keep us both sane! No ulterior motive here! You know what, I can’t wait to get to S for spanking, because I swear to god you’re so infuriating sometimes, I just want to have you bent over my knees with your scrawny, white, little arse sticking out, and whack away!”

“Getting warmer.”

“And then I’d... What?”

“...”

“Oh…. _Oh._ ”

“Took you long enough.”

"..."

"..."

“... So, who’s Daddy Harry’s naughty little boy?”

“I am.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Words count: 632


End file.
